


A Christmas Visitor

by Ethereal_Wishes



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Ogre Wars (Once Upon a Time), Peasant Belle, Spinner Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 18:35:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17167169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethereal_Wishes/pseuds/Ethereal_Wishes
Summary: Rumpelstiltskin lights a candle every Christmas Eve’s night, in memory of the son he lost to the Ogre Wars.  He’s been alone every single year since, and he expects this year to be no different, until he receives an unexpected visitor.





	A Christmas Visitor

A Christmas Visitor

A/AN: Just a random prompt to pop in my head, I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas!

Rumpelstiltskin lit a candle every Christmas Eve and placed it on the windowsill – a symbol of remembrance – for a son he'd lost in the Ogre Wars. It had been ten years since his passing, but lighting the candle was a way for him to cope with his loneliness. No one ever visited; he had no family or friends left to call upon. He was always alone.

It was bitterly cold that Christmas Eve's night; the wind whipped around his minuscule hovel, and he sensed a blizzard coming. Thankfully, he'd stocked up on supplies for the winter and firewood to keep him warm. He was almost ready to turn in for the evening, when he heard a steady knock at the door. He didn't answer, hopefully whoever it was would take the hint and leave. He never had visitors of any kind, but the knocking grew relentlessly louder. He muttered an expletive under his breath, grabbing his walking stick – hobbling to the door. He wrenched it open, stunned to see a young, chestnut haired woman wearing threadbare clothes.

"I'm so sorry, but please, can you let me in? It's freezing out here, and I've traveled so far," she begged.

Rumpelstiltskin obliged, opening the door wide for her. She stumbled over to the hearth, placing her bare hands over the fire to warm them. "Thank you so much, you're so kind," she said gratefully.

Rumpelstiltskin fetched her a cup of water and some fresh bread. She ravenously bit into the loaf, as if she hadn't eaten in days. "How long have you been traveling?" he inquired, observing her scarf down the pathetic meal.

"Three days, your house caught my eye when I saw the candle burning in the window – a beacon of hope. I prayed to the gods to spare my life, and then I found your hovel. I'm so thankful you answered. No one in the other houses, I tried, acknowledged me," she returned, gulping back the cup of water.

"Where are you from?" he inquired, taking her cup and refilling it.

"Avonlea; my village has been overrun by ogres, so I barely escaped. I was fortunate to have enough coin on me to spend the past two nights at the local tavern, but my money ran out. They told me if I wasn't going to pay, then I wasn't allowed to stay. So I made my way here, to your home – at the edge of the woods," she explained, smiling brilliantly – stealing his breath.

"Well, I'm afraid a blizzard will be brewing up soon. You're welcome to stay the night. I have an extra pallet, and some warm, dry clothes in that trunk, over there," he offered, pointing to a wooden chest in the far corner. "You look to be about my wife's size. You may take whatever you wish."

"And your wife won't mind?" she remarked skeptically.

"She's dead, been gone for many years, now," he replied stiffly.

"I'm so sorry, my condolences," she remarked apologetically.

"It's no matter," he remarked, waving his hand dismissively – the thought of, Milah, making his stomach twist uncomfortably. "How about yourself? Any relatives nearby?" He quickly changed the subject.

She shook her head. "My father is dead, taken by the plague. My mother died shortly after I was born, so I never knew her. I was betrothed to the blacksmith's son, but he was drafted to go fight in the war. We never married, and he never returned home," she added – a grim look flickering across her gaze.

"I'm sorry," Rumpelstiltskin muttered as be observed her rummage through the trunk.

"These should work," she replied, taking out a blue muslin dress and draping it in front of her.

Rumpelstiltskin nodded in approval. "Milah never favored that one, she always preferred the darker, earth tones I made her attire from."

"You made these?" Belle asked in disbelief.

"Yes, I'm a spinner by trade, it's how I make my living," he returned.

Belle nodded. "I used to work for the Duke of the Frontlands, I was his wife's personal maid, but then he expected a little something extra I wasn't willing to easily part with," she implied, her eyes growing distant. Rumpelstiltskin observed the way her face paled, and he immediately knew what she was referring to. If a woman didn't have someone to protect her, then she could easily be taken advantage of. No woman would have a lame cripple, his disability had been the exact reason he'd been overlooked when the men were called upon to fight.

"War makes brutes out of men, noble and poor alike. However some are born, believing they're entitled to whatever they wish, even when they're not," he said, casting her a sympathetic glance.

"And what about yourself? Are you all alone in this world, too?" she probed, averting her gaze to the candle still burning on the windowsill.

"Yes, you're the first visitor I've had in ages. I light this candle every Christmas Eve – in memory of my son which died in the war," he revealed.

"So how long have you been alone?" she inquired, meeting his eyes.

"Far too long," he whispered, fixating his gaze on her dazzling azure irises.

"Sometimes, I long for a warm body settled next to mine at night. Gaston and I never had the chance to wed before he was drafted. When my father died, he left me what little money he had stowed away. I was no fool though, I knew it wouldn't pay my expenses for a lifetime. I began sewing and mending uniforms for the soldiers, working in the village hospitals, and earning whatever coin I could to survive. I've seen a lot of death these last few years. I'm weary of this war, and I yearn for a life of peace," she told him.

He could see the melancholy dancing in her eyes, and for a moment, his heart began to ache for the things which she spoke of; He hadn't realized how isolated and lonely he was until she'd made him aware of it.

"I'm not much company, but I could offer you companionship – someone to talk to," he reverberated.

The brunette beamed. "I think you have more to offer than you believe. You're certainly the kindest person I've met in a long time. You've been very hospitable this afternoon – offering me warm clothes and a place to spend the night."

"I would never turn someone in need away," he replied softly, averting his gaze as she approached him.

He shuddered as she gently brushed straw colored hair from his eyes. "What are you doing?" he inquired, his breathing becoming labored from her close proximity. It had been ages since he'd been in the presence of a woman, that willingly desired his company.

"Just getting a good look at you, did you realize how soulful your eyes are?" She inquired in her alluring accent. Rumpelstiltskin felt the tips of his ears become warm.

"No, I've only ever likened them to the color of mud," he scoffed.

"No, there more becoming of honey. They're a lovely shade," she complimented.

"I don't even know your name," he exhaled sharply, her breath ghosting against his lips.

"Belle, but it doesn't matter, does it? We're just a couple of lonely souls amidst a sea of regret and heartache. We've lost much in our lives, but tonight all I wish is to forget. Will you help me forget?" she asked, loneliness and sadness gleaming in her cerulean depths.

"Yes," he nodded, reaching for her – parched, like a man lost in the desert – thirsting for water. And she was his oasis. She fit perfectly within his arms, as if she'd always belonged there. When their lips collided, something which had laid dormant stirred within him. He couldn't be sure if he was dreaming, but if he was, he had no desire to awaken. Whether he was holding onto an apparition or a real woman, he couldn't be certain. They'd only just met, but the fire she ignited within his soul was earth shattering.

Clothing was thrown haphazardly around the hovel, and he couldn't seem to access the rational part of his brain as this perfect stranger, sheathed him within her warmth. Desire blazed behind her blue eyes as she tentatively rocked her hips against him. Pure bliss and euphoria washed over him, as they selfishly took what they'd both been longing for from each other. This night wasn't about love, it was about curbing a hunger they both equally shared. She cried out in pure ecstasy, collapsing atop him as she came undone in his arms. He grunted, groaning in pleasure as he made his release. She rolled over on the pallet, gazing up at the ceiling, attempting to catch her breath.

"Thank you," she muttered, reveling in the afterglow of her pleasure.

"My name is Rumpel, Rumpelstiltskin," he supplied, turning to face her.

Belle laughed – sweet musical, peals of laughter. It was admittedly the loveliest sound he'd ever heard.

She grinned. "I suppose we skipped the formalities."

"We did, but it's been years since I've felt this alive," he remarked, drawing her back into his embrace.

"Me too," she yawned, relishing his pleasant body heat.

"You should stay," he suggested brazenly, threading his fingers through her thick chestnut tresses.

"I suppose I could, through winter at least. I wouldn't want to burden you," she yawned, snuggling closer to him.

"You wouldn't," he reassured her, tucking the homespun duvet over them. She shifted in his arms, closing her eyes. He observed her angelic features until his own eyes became laden with sleep. Rumpelstiltskin had sworn it had all been a pleasant dream, but as he awoke on Christmas morning, she was still tucked securely in his arms.

Belle remained with him through the winter months, and they eagerly continued to keep each other warm throughout the harsh, cold season. When the snow thawed, and flower buds began to burst open, divulging brilliant, hued blooms, the first bout of sickness overwhelmed her. She'd brushed it off as a passing illness, but when her monthly blood didn't come, she became fearful of the outcome.

When she'd passed the news along to Rumpelstiltskin, he'd insisted she stay through the spring months. When summer arrived, he asked her to become his wife. She happily took his last name, and upon winter's arrival, she gave birth to a son. The day of his birth marked the end of the Ogre's War, and the beginning of a new era – one of peace and rebuilding. Two lonely souls were able to restore their lives in the midst of a tragedy, forever grateful for the second chance they'd both received. Belle had ran right into his arms, and Rumpelstiltskin had never been more grateful that she hadn't looked back.

The End


End file.
